


Like Rain

by Missy



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Smut, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-24
Updated: 2010-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-07 12:50:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Now that, Alanis, is ironic."  John comes when Randy calls him, much as he wishes he wouldn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Rain

Riding down the '05 in the middle of August feels like hell. They ain't fixed the cracks in the highway, and it bounces the shit out of my quad.

It's your car, and you ain't fixed the struts. When I hit the off-ramp to the Red Roof, the suspension jumps, and half of my frozen lemonade spills out of the cup.

Think I'll leave it there to stain, just for fun. Just to see what you'll say.

***

You're waiting where you said you'd be; in your three piece suit with the top button busted, chewing that bottom lip like a wad of Big League. Squint and smile, and we're work'n it.

Same damn thing every week; pull it out, shove it in. You starin' at the top of my head, bein' somewhere else for the hour. It's all some fucked-up game. One time, you starting screaming 'Tiffany!' when you got off, just to piss me off. And I bit you for it, but you kept screaming it. 'TIF-AN-Y'. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and you kept on laughing.

I take it out on your ass. You probably say it just so I'll do it; just piss me off so I'll go Charles Manson on you.

When I shoot off, I go to the NBA Finals, to an Eminem Concert. To a ghetto boy's heaven, to a place where I'm not living every week just for another slice of that ass. I play it like we're not a couple of queens, crawling on our backs to be together one more week.

Fuck that emotions shit, right? After all, you ain't a fag.

When we finish fucking, after you take a long, hot shower, we go out for a cup off coffee.

Some days you talk and talk, like there ain't nothing that's gonna shut you up but a dick. Today you sit there and drink hot coffee in te middle of August, like we didn't just fuck each other. You push back your sunglasses and stare at the doughnuts. Thinkin' about carbo loading or what, princess? Too good to pretend I'm sitting here or something? You sure as hell knew who was fucking your ass an hour ago.

Walk around like a God for weeks, like you walk on air or some shit, and when I really want you to look at me, you don't even got the guts to. Legend killer? Now that, Alanis, is ironic.

I'm ready to start screaming like a bitch when someone notices me. They come up with those dead eyes and red cheeks that say 'yo, fanboy!' from miles away. I fake a smile smile and sign a dirty napkin.

When I look up, you're gone.


End file.
